


Rock God Series

by SPNFangallovesSquirrel



Series: Dean [7]
Category: Unspecified Fandom
Genre: Drunk Rowena, F/M, Mentions of Death, Oskar dies
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-08
Updated: 2018-06-08
Packaged: 2019-05-19 17:02:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14877797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SPNFangallovesSquirrel/pseuds/SPNFangallovesSquirrel
Summary: Time has passed, and you head back to an old child hood haunt to see handsome and popular Dean Winchester and the Archangels perform.





	1. Rock God Dean

**Author's Note:**

> Italics is a memory/flashback!

The music blasts through the speakers as you wander around the abandoned junkyard. The concert was set to play in a half an hour as soon as the band got there.

Long were the days since you had ben a kid running around the junkyard, your two best friends chasing you. Singers Automotive was once a treasure trove for two boys and a tomgirl trying to spend the day occupied while the adults were always busy talking about something.  
  
You run your fingers over a destroyed vintage mustang, reliving a rather fond memory.  
  
 _“You know Dean is going to find you. He’s always the best at finding people in hide and seek.” Sam stops you from leaving your rather terrible hiding spot.  
  
“Come on Sam, he’s got to lose sometimes. Just because he’s a WINchester, doesn’t mean he can always win.”  
  
“Traitor!” Sam yells after you as you run off towards a new hiding spot.  
  
The first car you find – one you know Dean wouldn’t look for you in – and you pull yourself through the open back window.  
  
It took you longer than you expected, but Dean did find you.  
  
“Sweetheart, you didn’t think I’d check the girly car? The mustang?”  
  
“Just because you like muscle cars Dean, doesn’t mean I have to.” You look up to him from your seat and smile.  
  
He winks and leans in the window. His green eyes bore in to your brown ones and he smiles, making you go weak at the knees.  
  
“Can I join you?” he asks smiling. “Even though it isn’t a muscle car?”  
  
“Come on sweetheart, can’t I be with my favorite girl?”  
  
You think for a second. “Step right in to my office good kind sir.” Your tone mimics a fake British accent, and he smiles. It was something you tended to do to annoy your little sister when you mimicked her.  
  
He jumps a little to slide his legs through the open window.  
  
“Can I ask you something Dean?” you ask, thinking after a few minutes.  
  
“What is that sweetheart?”  
  
You sigh and look to him. He holds your gaze and takes your hand, interlocking your fingers in his.  
  
“I could hear my mom and dad talking about something. Do you think it’s real?”  
  
“About that divorce thing?” You nod. You couldn’t possibly think about your parents splitting, let alone separating you from your little sister. “I hope not. I’m sorry that you have to be in the middle of it.”  
  
You rest your head on his shoulder and comfortably sigh.  
  
“At least I have you and Sam and (Y/Sister’s/N).”  
  
“You know you can always talk to me.”  
  
“Well, if this is real, and they send us to the bloody middle of nowhere.”  
  
“Where is she going?”  
  
“Shreveport Louisiana?” you shrug your shoulders. “I just can’t imagine being with out (Y/Sister’s/N). And why they wouldn’t fight to have the both of us is beyond me.”  
  
He clears his throat and looks at you. “Let’s change the subject. Like, how much I want to kiss you right now.”  
  
“You aren’t in the back of your hotrod. You sure you want to make out in a girly car right now?”  
  
“I guess it ain’t so bad when the girl I’m making out with is you.”  
  
Where the hell did that come from? Until now, you knew you had been only friends. Why the sudden change?  
  
Of course you wanted to kiss your best friend. You had since the day you met him.  
  
You couldn’t respond to him. All you could do was nod, and soon he was pulling you on top of him. His lips were as soft as you had imagined, and he took control just like you wanted.  
  
_An elated squeal breaks you from your daydream. Three girls were walking past you. They stop to revel at the car, and you staring at it.  
  
“Oh my god, he could’ve touched it. Dean could’ve touched this car!” A small brunette pushes you aside and places her hands on the rusted metal.  
  
The redhead looks to you, the one accompanying the brunette. “That’s why you’re here, right?”  
  
“I hold far better memories than Dean touching this car.” With that you leave the two girls and look for the one place you needed most.  _The bar._  
  
After your mom and dad had split. Your mom took you to Louisiana, while your dad took your sister on a whirlwind adventure overseas.  
  
Dean would keep in contact after you left. But soon things changed.  
  
Although unsatisfied, you had your first boyfriend.  
  
Dean found his first love, Cassie.  
  
As time changed, you all grew, more and more.  
  
Sam got a full ride scholarship to Stanford. To John Winchester’s dismay though, he wanted the boys to continue the family business; a crappy job of hunting and taxidermy.  
  
So Dean being the protective big brother paved the way for Sam to become the big hotshot lawyer you knew he was now.  
  
He did anything he could so Sam didn’t have to work through school.  
  
Soon everyone around California was loving that rocker vibe and his deliciously strong voice, that he was getting attention. Attention to pay bills and support Sam.  
  
You wouldn’t admit it to anyone else, but you always secretly would be his number one groupie. You’d always support and love him.  
  
Just as the stern Defense attorney you had become, no one would take you seriously if you were always fantasizing about the  _good ole’ days_.  
  
You find a makeshift bar, a bed of an old 77 ford truck and quickly down two tumblers of scotch before your nerves calm.  
  
“Come on, don’t you have some big fancy trial tomorrow?” a voice asks from behind.  
  
You shoot around quickly to see Sam Winchester, although he was a lot taller than you remember.  
  
“Sam? Little Sammy Winchester?”  
  
He rolls his eyes and shakes his head, but approaches you, long arms wrapping around you in a hug. “I told you I don’t like being called Sammy.”  
  
“Sure, and I hate being called (Y/N/N). Yet you always called me that. Oh my goodness, is this the gorgeous Jess?” A blonde is approaching you both slowly. She folds her arms, and you can’t help but see a giant rock plastered on her ring finger.  
  
Sam clears his throat and holds his hand out for her. “Uh, yeah. (Y/N), this is Jess my fiancé. Jess, this is an old childhood friend. (Y/N).”  
  
“Oh, the one Dean is so excited to see?” She points to you, and for a second she looks you up and down. “I can see why he’s been raving about seeing her. He doesn’t do you justice.”  
  
“What?” you ask quietly.  
  
“Dean painted a picture, but seriously. Badass, tattooed Defense attorney. I thought you’d be tatted with a cute little tramp stamp and maybe dark – rimmed glasses, but I’d let you be my lawyer.”  
  
You choke a little on your scotch and smile. “It’s nice to meet you Jess.” You look to Sam. “He’s really excited to see me?”  
  
Sam nods and motions for the bartender.  
  
“What about Cassie?”  
  
“Ugh, don’t get him started about her.” Jess groans.  
  
You follow them and find an empty picnic table. Sam sits on the tabletop and Jess leans against him.  
  
“Uh, now you have to tell.” You look back and forth from them. “Come on, you can’t leave me hanging.”  
  
“It.” He laughs and scoffs. “It’s probably something Dean should tell you.”  
  
You shake your head, but your attention is diverted as feedback squeals from the speakers.  
  
Girls start to scream as the band enters onto the makeshift stage between old cars.  
  
The first to enter is the drummer. You recognize him from your last summer in Sioux Falls. Right before you left for Shreveport with your mom, you and Dean randomly had run into the scrawny kid at the convenient store. Little did you know Garth would later become Dean’s drummer.  
  
After Garth is situated, the bassist makes his way out. Benny, the old bartender in Sioux Falls had followed Dean in hopes to break out in to the business. He plays a riff on his guitar and waves to someone in the crowd.  
  
Jo Harvelle is next to come out, an acoustic guitar strapped to her back. She plugs the amp into her guitar and starts to strum a small tune.  
  
The last you all are waiting for is the star of the show. Dean Winchester himself.  
  
The girls all start to scream as your six – foot – two rock god approaches his mic.  
  
“Hey guys!” Dean’s gravelly voice makes you weak at the knees. You didn’t know how much you had missed it. Even when it was prepuberty and his voice wasn’t this deep.  
  
The girls scream, and you smile. Dean had always had that kind of way with women.  
  
“Thanks for coming out tonight. This place is special. We wanted to have a special show. This place has so many memories and it influenced a lot of our music.” He looks around the small area packed with people.  
  
His gaze follows the crowd until he finds what he’s looking for, you, Sam and Jess.  
  
“This first song is going to be a cover. This is dedicated to someone very, very special.”


	2. Sweet Emotions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More memories flood in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rocker!Dean AU. (Y/N): Your Name. italics are memories.  
> Song Inspiration: Sweet Emotion by Aerosmith,

As the first few cords ran through the speakers, you couldn’t help but smile as the nostalgia runs through your veins.

 _It was only a day before your mom would pack you up and head for Shreveport. Dean had promised you’d spend the last night with him._  
  
No matter what.  
  
So at midnight that night, giving in to all the clichés of forbidden love, he picked you up in his dad’s borrowed impala.  
  
“You got the impala? How?”  
  
“Come on sweetheart, what my dad doesn’t know, won’t kill him.”  
  
You smile and slip into the front seat, and only scoot over so you can be as close to him as possible.  
  
“So what are you doing with me tonight?” you ask, putting your head on his shoulder. He shifts uneasily and puts his hands on the steering wheel.  
  
He clears his throat and pulls out of the driveway. With any luck, your mom was too occupied with being OCD to notice the purr of the impala’s engine.  
  
“I just want to be with you. Since you’re leaving me.”  
  
You take that as the last thing he wants to talk about, and you keep silent as he drives off.  
  
Dean finds an old road that leads to the local pond. It’s beautiful out, the stars are all out, and the moon is shining in it’s silvery crescent, breaking the black hole of the pond.  
  
Dean cuts the engine and turns the lights off. Except for the hum of the radio and the crickets, everything is silent.  
  
After the silence is to deafening you finally break.  
  
“I don’t want this last moment we have together, to be as sucky as it is right now.”  
  
“Sucky? I don’t do sucky, sweetheart.”  
  
“Then why do I feel like you’re saying goodbye to me forever?”  
  
“Because Louisiana is a long ways a way.” Dean replies.  
  
You sigh, knowing that he’s one hundred percent right.  
  
“Then let’s make my last day here something I won’t ever forget Dean.”  
  
You nod to the backseat, and wait for him to make the next move.

* * *

 

“You’re blushing.” Sam whispers, jolting you out of your little daydream. He even shines his phone light on you, and it’s evident that you’re blushing. “Why are you blushing?”  
  
“Oh come on Sam, stop being nosy. You’re a lawyer in the office, not out.” Jess admonishes.  
  
“She’s my oldest friend and he’s my brother. I have to know.” Sam pushes.  
  
“You want to know? You really want to know Sam?” you ask looking to him.  
  
“Of course. I’m a lawyer. I’m nosy.”  
  
You shake your head and roll your eyes. “It’s the song that was on in the background when I lost my virginity to your brother, Sam.”  
  
He coughs, but minds his own business.  
  
The next few songs on his set list, were songs you had grown familiar to. But after the third song, he was reeling you back in to the familiar throes of familiarity.

* * *

 _You decided, that even though you weren’t making any friends, and had no date you’d head to your dinky little prom._  
  
You had been standing alone against a far wall when Sweet Emotion by Aerosmith comes on.  
  
You regretted going on, not really understanding why you were torturing yourself.  
  
When you’re about to leave, Dean, cocky as ever walks in; a smile plastered on his face.  
  
“Dean?!” You squeal, as he wraps his arms around you. You bury your head into his neck, and you almost don’t want to let go.  
  
“Sweetheart. I thought I’d save you from. This.” He motions around to the poorly decorated gymnasium and the awkward couples dancing. “I’m taking you out on the town.”  
  
“I’m in a prom dress Dean. And you know my mom.”  
  
“The witch is still being hard on you?” he asks. You wrap your arms around his neck and let him pull you close to him. Under his overly large leather jacket is a white button up. You give him a small nod and then kiss him gently on the lips before he spins you in a small circle.  
  
“I miss you shorty.” He smiles kissing you on the lips again, this time it’s a little less hesitant.  
  
You give him a small smile and cup his face in your hands. “I miss you too. So, how about you do me the honor of one dance, and then we’ll get the hell outta here.”  
  
So slow danced to Sweet Emotion. And then three more songs after that; content not to leave his arms for anything.

* * *

 

“Am I missing something?” Sam asks once more. Your hands are in your lap, and you’re looking down to something in your hands.  
  
“Sam!” Jess hisses.  
  
You mile as sweetly as you can as you stand. “It’s okay Jess.” You give a small sigh and stand, putting your hand on his shoulder. “Some things are hard to forget. Especially your first love Sam. Excuse me for a second.”  
  
You get up and walk to the bar, chasing another three rounds of pure scotch before the small set list was finished and Dean was thanking everyone for coming. You’d hide out until everyone has dispersed, not really wanting to cause a scene for Dean or his band.  
  
“Wow, so how is my sexy lawyer?” You turn to see Benny approaching you, arms outstretched, Les Paul strapped to his back.  
  
You smile a little and let him wrap his arms around you, and even though it was meant to be sexual, his hug was purely paternal.  
  
“I’m sure she’s good old man.” Dean smiles, standing a few feet away from you. You’re sure he’s giving you space, wanting you to initiate the first move.  
  
“Well,” Sam clears his throat awkwardly, “let’s give them some space, the Roadhouse is still open. Let’s go over there for dinner.”  
  
The band does what Sam says, and they quickly disperse to waiting vehicles. You’re left with the makeshift bar, and the man you were fifty percent dreading and fifty percent excited to see.  
  
You clear your throat and smile at him. Through the light of the lamppost you were under, he was the same man you had seen ten years ago.  
  
He aged rather well. The crows feet framed his green eyes, and he still had the same freckles, perfect straight smile, and those lips.  
  
Those lips were the same as they were before, plump and full.  
  
 _And kissable_.  
  
“Heya (Y/N).” he says quietly. He plasters one of those classic shit – eating grin.  
  
You chase your scotch with a sip of fruit punch rock star and look to him. “Hey Dean. Great set out there tonight.”  
  
“Thanks. I’m glad you came tonight.” He says quietly.  
  
“Me too.” You gaze around the junkyard, soaking in the familiarity of your old playground. “This place holds a lot of memories.”  
  
He smiles and walks closer to you, but you turn to stop him.  
  
“Dean.”  
  
He looks down and shakes his head, a disappointed chuckle falls from his lips.  
  
Those perfect lips.  
  
“Yeah, I know. I. You’ve probably got some hot shot attorney as a husband.”  
  
“No. I don’t.” You reply. “It’s.” You sigh trying to find the right words to say. “I meant those words when I told you I loved you. I think a part of me will always love you.”  
  
“But?”  
  
“But a lot of things were left unsaid, and I’ve got a lot of things to say Dean.”

 


	3. I'm poison

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More memories

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rocker!Dean AU. (Y/N): Your name. (Y/N/N): your nickname  
> Slight Drunk Rowena - is that a warning?

He nods. “I deserve that. I’ll listen.” You lead him to a discarded picnic table, and flick a red solo cup to the ground.

* * *

_“Seriously, every time. Every time we do this, it’s amazing.” He says breathlessly. He pulls you close to his chest._

_You sigh contentedly, breathing in sweat, sex and all that was Dean._

_“Thanks for this. I needed you.” You reply. “Midterms are really stressful this term.”_

_“I couldn’t leave my best girl hanging. On her birthday of all things.”_

_“Uh huh.” You chuckle. “You just wanted an excuse to get me drunk and get into my pants.”_

_“Ugh,” he scoffs, feigning hurt. “I would never. You actually hold your liquor really well.”_

_“Come on, living with the witch, I had to sometimes. Plus the jerk didn’t notice. She just thought she always slept walked or something and polished off her alcohol.”_

_“Have you talked to her, or (Y/S/N)?” he asked._

_“(Y/S/N) checks in regularly. She and my dad are in California now while she finishes high school, and then she’s leaving. She’s going to put herself through medical school. Apparently dad isn’t going to.”_

_“But here you are, you graduated high school with enough credits to start Law School early. I’m so proud of you.” He kisses your forehead, and starts to rub your arm. You shiver, so he pulls the still overly – large leather jacket over you._

_“And you.” You rub his chest, outlining the small pentagram tattoo on his chest. “Opening for (Your Favorite Band). That’s incredible. Like really incredible.”_

_“Nah, compared to (Your Favorite Band), we’re a bunch of random–ass misfits.”_

_“My favorite random–ass misfits.” You kiss his chest and tighten your hold on him. “I think after I graduate, I might take a month off and follow my favorite group around. Be your number one groupie.”_

_“Yeah?” he asks, sweetly rubbing a hand through your hair._

_“Yeah. You’ve got me hopelessly hooked Dean. I dunno. There’s something about you man.”_

_“What do you mean?” he asks slowly. You look to each other, and he gives you a small smile._

_You let out a sigh, scared of telling him. You didn’t know how he’d react. “I. You’ve been there for me through some of the biggest moments. I mean I lost my virginity to you do. Don’t you think I’d probably grow attached to you?”_

_“Attached? To me?” he asks._

_“I. I love you Dean. It will always be you.”_

_“Come on, don’t. You’re drunk. I’m. I’m not the one for you.”_

_“Who the hell are you, to tell me who is or isn’t for me?” you sit up, pulling yourself off of his body._

_Wow, you got angry quick. Must’ve been the alcohol. You thought to yourself._

_“I’m poison. Our family issues. I’m not the one for you (Y/N/N).”_

_You groan, knowing you’d get the whole spiel. Again. “I’m serious.”_

_“Not this shit again Dean.” You start to pull your sports bra over your head._

_“I’m serious (Y/N). The issues I have, you don’t need to be involved in them.”_

_“So you were content to help me through my issues, but your issues are far worse than mine?” You shove your tank top over your head and scoff. “Really Dean? I have spent the last entire decade of my life holding out for you to grow some balls. And yet when I pour my fucking heart out you drop it like it’s hot.” You barely have any room, but you slip into your shorts, and slip on your flip flops, and bolt out the door._

_“Where the hell are you going?” he asks through the open door._

_You point to him, and even in the dark you know he can see you’re glaring daggers. “Far away from here.”_

_“It’s freezing, and at least five miles into town.”_

_“Does it look like I care Dean?” you ask, blatantly not caring about him caring. You turn around and try to run off._

_You can hear Dean struggle, and as you look back, he’s attempting to pull his pants up and run after you._

_“Damn it (Y/N), get over here.”_

_“Why the hell should I?” you stop, holding your arms out. You cross your arms and glare at him. “You have made your feelings very clear. You don’t care about me.”_

_“I do care about you, and if you were to freeze to death because you were drunk and couldn’t function, I’d never forgive myself.” He pulls you by the arm close to him._

_How the hell did he get there so fast? You ask yourself. HOW THE HELL is he not drunk off his ass?_

_You storm back to the impala, pulling your arm away from his grasp. “How about my broken heart Dean? Can you forgive yourself for that?”_

* * *

 

“I do admit I didn’t handle things very well (Y/N/N).”

“Please don’t call me that. Then we’re back to the way things started.”

“And that is?” he asks.

You sigh. “Me hopelessly devoted and in love with you, and you ripping my heart out and feeding it to the wolves.”

“You’re kind of over reacting (Y/N).”

“How am I over reacting Dean?” you ask. You try and keep your voice calm and level. “I was young. I may not have poured and poured my heart to you, but I still did. I still told you how I felt and that I loved you. I had never had a boyfriend up until that point. And since then it’s been meaningless after meaningless relationship. But apparently my feelings or how I feel didn’t matter to you.”

“But they do. I. I don’t know what to say to fix the past, but I know I could start from the beginning.”

“What the hell, is it about you Winchesters? I mean, I don’t have a clue. Why do I keep running after you?”

“It might be our charm.” Dean replies, happy you’re giving him the attention he wants.

You roll your eyes and shake your head.

“Dean.” You put your hand on his, and immediately your swept back into that familiarity. “I really care about you. I love too, even.”

“But?”

“I.” you try and form words. He’s grabbed both of your hands and laces his fingers in yours. “I love you, but I need time. I’ve harbored some resentment the last few years. A lot of resentment and some pretty poor choices on my behalf.”

“It won’t change how I feel.”

“I know, it’s. It’s just the logical lawyer brain.” You pull from his grasp and put your head in your hand. “I’ve trained myself to think logically. Since getting my degree and since that night.”

Dean stands and walks to you, kneeling in the dirt in front of you. You are forced to turn to look at him.

“I understand where you are coming from. I do. I have to admit it’s been a downward spiral of trashed hotel rooms and drunken nights. But when I thought that you could be here tonight, I did all I could to be. Presentable.”

At first glance, you didn’t know what he was talking about, but as you look at him closely. He had deep, dark circles under his eyes, and a bruise forming under one, possibly from a recent fight. Although they looked bright and happy, he seemed to have a dead look to his once lifelike green eyes.

And you were a sucker for those green eyes. Or the way his freckles fanned over his nose and cheeks.

And of course you could get lost in those lips.

It seemed as if the last few years were hard him as well.

“Oh Dean.” You say breathlessly. “I’m so sorry.”

You wrap your arms around him, burying your nose into his neck.

He’s about to pull you in for a kiss when your phone suddenly blares the wicked witch theme.

“Fuck.” You mutter while Dean mutters a shit under his breath.

You clear your throat and dig for your phone in your pocket. Your boss, Rowena in a witches costume is plastered to your iPhone screen.

You roll your eyes and put your head to Dean’s chest. The beat of his heart seems to calm you.

“Hello?”

“GET DOWN TO THE OFFICE!” A voice screeches. Through blubbering, tears and the thick Scottish accent, you can discern that it’s definitely your witch of a boss Rowena. You just couldn’t tell if it was her crying, or someone else.

“What?”

“I said get down to the bloody office. I need you.”

“What’s wrong Rowena?” you ask, trying to be calm. If you’re calm, you usually can get her to calm down.

“It’s. Oskar.”

“The mail room temp?” you ask, confused.

“Yes. It’s Oskar. There’s been a murder at the firm. Get over here. Now.” You hear her take a swig of something, most definitely wine. So you could add drunk to the blubbering and tears.

“Rowena, I’m not in New York City. I can’t get to New York that fast.”

“Damn it; if you want your name up there as partner, you’d better get down here. NOW!”


	4. Office Gossip

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You get some bad news that might make or break your relationship with Dean.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rocker!Dean AU. (Y/N): Your name. (Y/N/N): your nickname

“ _I_ think that that stupid son of hers did it. Honestly, what good has he been to Rowena?” 

You prance forward towards your office, walking past two secretaries. Rowena’s secretary and yours were standing by the water cooler, of course gossiping. The murder at the office was all anyone could talk about. 

“If you want to keep your cush job here, I would suggest you stop gossiping and get back to work girls.” The redhead – Anna who was your secretary – looked down, while Ruby – Rowena’s secretary cleared her throat nervously.

“Anna. Ruby. I’m serious. GO.” You point the file in your hand towards their desks. They quickly rush off, the click – clack of their heels sounding over the tile as they departed quickly.

So you get back to work. Even though you’d rather stab yourself a million times over in the eyes, you go back to work. Then you would happily return home. Happy to be home with him, even if you didn’t know what the future held for the two of you.

* * *

 

“Mmm, what smells so good?” You ask walking in to the kitchen. Dean looks up from the stove, at the frying pan he was holding. 

“Some stir fry and chicken. I. The chicken was about to expire, I thought I’d cook for you. Sorry if I over – stepped.” 

“No. I haven’t used this stove in a long time. It’s okay.” You groan as you kick off your heels and lean over the counter. 

“Long day?” he asks. 

“Yeah. All the girls in the office are gossiping about who did it. I bet by the end of the week we’ll have a pool of money for someone.”

Dean chuckles and pulls the pan from the stove, looking around for something. You stand quickly and walk to him, pulling plates from their resting spot. 

“I hope you had a good day. Not too boring?” You smile and put the plates on counter in front of you. You rub his bicep as he starts to fill both plates, giving you a slightly larger portion. 

You snatch the plate with less before he can argue and walk to the table, fork in hand. 

“Well, it was okay. I walked through Central Park. Got mauled by a few fan girls, got lost trying to get back here. Finally got back.” He puts his plate next to yours, and returns a few seconds with two wine glasses and a bottle.

“I’m sorry you were all alone. Since Rowena ruined my time off, she promised I could take tomorrow off. How about we get lost in Central Park again tomorrow?”

Dean smiles, putting his hand on yours. “I’d like that. I just don’t want you to jeopardize your job.”

“She needs me. I’m not going anywhere. Her firm will fall apart.” You take a sip of your red wine and put the glass down. “Plus I’m exhausted. My work load is double that of any of the attorneys out there.”

“Well, I have heard you know how to win a case.”

“Professor Keating was a great instructor. I learned everything from her. How to be a damn good defense attorney.”

“Well, I know I’d want you to be my attorney.”

You scoff and shake your head, and take a bite out of your food. His hand stays on yours, and you eat in a comfortable silence.

* * *

“Damn it.” You put your phone back in to your pocket.

“What’s wrong?” Dean asks. He relinquishes his hold on you and looks down to you.

“Damn. They finally found some information on that kid’s death. I have to go to the office. Probably have some murderer to defend.” 

He sighs and puts his hands on your shoulders. “Now? Things were just getting good.” 

He was right. They were. 

You close your eyes at his touch and sigh in defeat. “Dean.”

“I hate it when you have to leave, and spend your time with that.  _Witch_.” 

You smile and give him a kiss on the cheek. 

“I’m sorry. This job. It’s a time suck. But I have to do it. It pays the bills. I’ll be back as soon as I can.” 

With that, you burst out of your brownstone and off to hell.

* * *

Things  _were_  going better. Dean had faked laryngitis so he could spend a few days with you, rather than play at Madison Square Garden.  
  
He said he had already played Madison Square; he didn’t need to do it a second time.

He wanted to make up for lost time, the years that he had stolen from you. 

Then two days before the big gig, you caught laryngitis and it was up to him to take care of you. 

Things weren’t back to normal, but they were getting better.

You still had that one thing you had to get over. One thing Dean knew you still held over him.

* * *

_“I’m just scared you’re not going to want me anymore.” He says one night. Your fever had broken, but you still felt like crap. The doctor said no stress, and that meant no work._

_Lucky you._  

_You weren’t sure if you wanted the stress of making up, or the stress of Rowena._

_You give a sigh, and motion for Dean to come forward. “You will always have me Dean. You know that. I know that. You will always have my heart.”_  

 _“But.” he pauses. “I’m sensing a but.”_  

_You nod and let Dean lean against you. You wouldn’t tell him, but his body leaning against you was oddly comforting. Even though you couldn’t breathe, and your lungs felt like they were under siege._

_“We just need to work on things. I hope you understand.”_

_Your voice catches. You hope he didn’t hear it._

_“Babe, what’s wrong?”_

_Damn, he was good. Caught me red handed._

_“Is there anyone in your life Dean? Anything I should know about?”_

_You give his head a kiss and he warmly holds on to your arms. You close your arms dreading what he might say._

_“No. Cassie was a long time ago, even before you. She broke my heart, and that’s that. I don’t have any feelings for her. Not any more at least.”_

_“But you did at one time?”_

_It wasn’t like you were jealous. Not really._

_“At one time. Yeah. But you never really forget your first love.”_

* * *

“Alright, I’m here. What’s the big news?” You gripe walking in to Rowena’s office. It was filled with old relics from her hometown in Glasgow, Scotland.

“It appears the shitty excuse we’ve got for the NYPD,” her Scottish brogue enunciates each letter of the Police’s moniker, “Have considered this case to be a cold one.” 

“So I’m free to go?” you ask folding your arms in front of you. 

“Of course not. We’ve got a big one. Of course your idiot boyfriend doesn’t know what’s coming.” 

“What the bloody hell are you talking about?” you asked. You pinch the bridge of your nose, trying to ebb the headache you could feel coming.

“Oh, we’ve got some woman claiming your hot piece of ass is her son’s father and wants alimony. Or a paternity test. Or something. You’re going to have to warn Dean, and if he requests a lawyer, you’re going to be the one to represent him.”  
  
You freeze. All you can do is look down to your phone, half tempted to call Dean and give him a piece of your mind.


	5. Friggin Groupies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Synopsis: Sam finds you at a bar, drunk after Rowena

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rocker!Dean AU. (Y/N): Your name.

****“Oh thank god. Yeah, I found her Dean.”  
  
All you could think right about now was how annoying Sam’s voice was. That and you didn’t want to speak to the Winchester’s.  
  
“Yeah, she’s just at a bar drinking.” He pauses, and it takes him long enough to continue, that you turn around to look at Sam. “How the hell am I supposed to know what’s wrong? She’s your girlfriend. Although, by the looks of things, you’re in the doghouse.  _Again_.”  
  
You stumble to try and comprehend the conversation, and knock over your beer bottle to walk to Sam.  
  
“Dean.” Sam sighs exhausted. “I. I don’t know, okay?” you couldn’t help but see him already getting frustrated with his brother. You wanted to know what was going on, on his side of the conversation. “You need to fix this yourself, I can’t clean up everything for you. Yeah, I am your lawyer, but this isn’t something your brother lawyer can fix. Grow up you ass.”  
  
Sam groans and hangs his phone up, and you’re only sure that Dean had ended the conversation quickly, probably hanging up on him.  
  
“Well, at least he’s still an ass. To everyone, not just me.” You mutter. You brush past him and sway towards the only pool table in the bar.  
  
“Yeah. He’s an ass, and probably whatever he did, he deserves, but come on. Let’s get back to your apartment.”  
  
“You know. I don’t want to.” You chuckle indignantly. You grab a pool stick on the wall and stumble into the edge of the pool table.  
  
“Damn it, (Y/N). Come on.”  
  
“No Sam. You’re going to have to play me to get me out of here.” You cross your eyes a little as you try and line the balls in the plastic triangle.  
  
Sam lets out a little groan and relents. “Fine. But I’m taking you home after this game. Deal?”  
  
“Whatever. Why don’t you break? Since I’m not able to function apparently.” Your tone has a sarcastic bite to it, and you look down, waiting for the silence to drown out your thoughts.  
  
It is silent for the next few minutes. You struggle to hit any color, let alone the stripes you were assigned to play.  
  
“Please tell me, am I not good enough for Dean?”  
  
“What are you talking about? I think you’re probably the best bet for him. Better than anyone he’s had in his life. Before and after you.”  
  
You laugh. “That’s rich. Apparently I’m not good enough, and you guys were too poisonous.”  
  
“What? What happened (Y/N)?”  
  
“Your dumbass of a brother broke my heart when I told him I loved him. What do you think?” you ask. Your eyesight clears for only a second, and you’re able to break a cluster of balls and bank a striped ball in a pocket.  
  
“Well,” he rolls his eyes and shakes his head agreeing, “that is Dean. But what is being here, drunk, going to prove?”  
  
“I don’t think you understand. You’ve had this cush little life with Jess by your side Sam. Do you know the crap I’ve been through? No one by my side? I barely get to see my sister. She’s to invested in medical school and some guy she’s got wrapped around her finger. So I don’t think you understand.”  
  
“I understand plenty (Y/N), but this probably isn’t even about that, is it?”  
  
You let out a sigh and sit down at the table closest to the pool table. “He lied to me Sam. Again.”  
  
“What did he lie about this time?”  
  
“Some piece of shit chick is claiming her kid is his. He said there is no one. There’s been on one since Cassie, which was before me. When we were kids.”  
  
“No one but regrets and one night stands.” Sam sits down across from you and puts his beer down.  
  
You sigh and put your head in your hands. “Of course. Do you think this is valid? Is this kid his? Is this going to stop us from having any type of future?”  
  
“I can’t answer that. You need to talk to Dean. Without him knowing anything first. You know Dean. He’ll be on the defensive if he knows what’s going on.” He leans in and takes your hands in his big ones. “But you have to get off your ass and stop being stupid. Getting drunk isn’t going to help.”  
  
“Of course you’re the logical one of the group right now. Fine. Take me home please.”  
  
If you were awake by the time you got home, you’d talk to Dean. If not, there was always tomorrow.


	6. Are you my baby mama?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Results are in if Lisa Braeden is Dean’s baby mama.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rocker!Dean AU. (Y/N): Your name. ITALICS IS MEMORIES OR FLASHBACKS

“What did I do?” Dean asks as you walk in to your brownstone. Sam was behind you, holding your heels and your wallet, and he slowly puts them down next to the door.

“I’m too drunk to talk about it right now.” You swerve and bump into your hall table and stop, trying not to knock down the vase you thought was there. “Oh. Hey.” You chuckled. “Nothing is there.”

“What is wrong with her?” Dean looks to Sam and then to you swerving your way to the kitchen.

“That is between you two.” He replies. They both jump as you clatter around in the kitchen, searching for something.

“Damn, she’s fast when she’s drunk.” Sam moves forward, but Dean stops him.

“Like you said, it’s between us.”

“She may be hostile Dean. You. She’s angry.”

“I can tell. She only gets drunk when she’s angry or sad.” Dean nods walking forward. “Just go home to Jess, Sam.”

“Well fine. Don’t say I didn’t tell you so.” Sam argues, before walking out.

Dean makes his way to you, and as you’re attempting to fix yourself a cup of coffee, you give him a glare.

“What did I do?” he asks holding his hands up in retreat. “Please help me?”

“I will only ask you one more time Dean Winchester. Have you been with anyone else but Cassie?” you move around to him, steadying yourself against the fridge in the process. “Because I know the real answer.”

“No (Y/N)! I promise you, I haven’t seen anyone since after your 21ST and if it was anyone, they were meaningless.”

“Then who the hell is Lisa Braeden?”

“Li. Lisa? How the hell do you know her?”

“I know her because she’s filing a paternity suit against you. She’s claiming you are her son’s father.”

“Son?”

“Yeah. Son.” You reply bluntly. “So tell me the truth Dean. Are you with anyone? Have you been with anyone?”

“No!” he blurts. “I am not with anyone. I haven’t been with anyone since Cassie. Yes, there was an occasional fling after concerts, but it never went anywhere.”

“That you remember!” you shake your head.

“Please. Trust me.”

You sit down against the wall and shake your head. “I want to Dean. I really do. But what is making me believe you? You already lied to me.”

“I lied to you? How did I lie to you?”

“Saying you’d never break my heart. That you’d never lie to me. That you’d never leave me.”

“I.” he hangs his head as realization sweeps across his face.

* * *

 

“This was probably the worst idea we have ever had Dean.” You laugh as he pulls the impala out of your yard. The roof of the car was the easiest place to climb up to your second level, and like prince charming, your rugged man trapped in a boy’s body whisked you away in your sleek and classic stage coach passing as a car.

“I’m not letting your last night here, with me being boring. It’s going to be unforgettable.”

You scoot to the middle, finding comfort with the proximity between the two of you. You rest your head on his shoulder and the hand on your knee is soon locked with yours.

It’s a good distance before you’re on the outskirts of town, and Dean finds a quiet dirt road to park the impala.

* * *

“You know,” you reply later. “Whenever I’m with you, it’s never boring Winchester. It’s quite the adventure actually.”

“That’s good.” He nods thoughtfully. He looks to you, ready to say something. “What’s on your mind sweetheart.”

“I don’t want to leave you. I don’t. I hate this.” You bury your head in his shoulder and heave a big sigh.

“I don’t want you to leave either.”

“What if you find another girl? What if you go back to Cassie?” you ask quietly.

“Never gorgeous.” He promises. “I’d never go back to anyone else after you.”

“Really? Cassie is gorgeous. I wouldn’t blame you.” You look down, ashamed to even express those feelings.

“Yeah, she’s gorgeous, but I’ve got quite a catch with me right now. You’re equally gorgeous. But I’m here with you.”

You sigh and look up to Dean. “You’re lying Dean. I’m not that great.”

“I’d never lie to you gorgeous. I could never lie to you.” He kisses your forehead and pulls you closer. “I need you. I need you so much, I could never hurt you. Never lie to you.”

* * *

 

The next day after getting caught by the police, you said a teary goodbye to your dad, your sister and lastly Sam and Dean. Sam was a good friend, he was your best friend in fact, but it was Dean you were going to miss.

After a kiss good bye and an “I’ll never leave you,” it was almost four years before you saw him again.  
  
“I meant every word (Y/N). I promise. I meant it.”

“Then why was I broken hearted? And alone? And lied to Dean?” you stand slowly and sway as you walk to the couch. Dean hesitates, but follows after you. He sits at the other end of the couch to give you space.

“What do I have to do to fix this?” Dean pleads after a few minutes of silence. You were trying not to pass out from pure exhaust and drunkenness, but you didn’t.

“Dean.”

“I’m serious (Y/N). What do I need to do to fix this?” He finds his place on the coffee table and faces you. “Please.”

“I want to trust you.” You run your fingers through your hair and look down. “I really do.”

“What do I need to do?” he asks once more.

“Take the paternity test.”

“I promise. The kid isn’t mine. I’d know if I was a dad.”

“Dean.” You shake your head in annoyance. “If Lisa Braeden was one of those flings, and you did something. You could’ve gotten her pregnant.”

“I’m not the kid’s father. I promise you. I swear on. On Sammy’s grave.”

You scoff a little and shake your head.

“Take the paternity test, and we’ll go from there Dean.”

* * *

 

“Yes. I get that the.” you have to look at your file for the latest case you were taking. On top of Dean’s case your boss had added more to your schedule. “The Windom brothers believe that Mr. Shurley is stealing their story, but what evidence do you have of plagiarism?” You pause waiting for the other lawyer’s answer. They had called for you to make your client take a plea, when all they had was a possible theft.

Sure the character’s names matched their character’s names. But that was just coincidence.

“Come on, how is that even true? David and Sean are two of the most common names in the US.” You pause for a second to wave your secretary Anna in, and she steps forward with a sealed envelope. “Yeah. And Williams is like Lopez. It’s the most common last name in Mexico. You know what. Come back with more. Mr. Shurley isn’t budging. You need more evidence. Yeah. I gotta go. Call me if you get more info. Until then, I’m filing for an mistrial with Judge Baronsky. Yeah. Thanks.”

You hit end on your phone and throw it to your desk angrily. “This better be good news.”

“Too much going on? I can come back.”

“No, what is that?” you ask pointing to the package in her hand.

“Oh, courier came with this. I think it may be Mr. Winchester’s results for the paternity suit? A sealed copy is up at the front at my desk for her attorney.”

“Okay. Um. Call her lawyer. I’ll take that. I’m going to go take it and open it with him.” You stand and start to frantically grab around for your things. “Forward all my calls to my voicemail. I won’t be in the rest of the day. Have her attorney set up a meeting with us.”

“Okay.” She replies quietly.

You pull your jacket on, and mindlessly shuffle the last few items in a file of Dean’s before throwing it in your large tote.

“If Rowena give you any issues, shoot me a message and I’ll tell her to go to hell myself.”

Anna gives you a nod as she hands you the envelope and then you usher her out of the office. Your ride to the brownstone was silent. In the last three weeks things had started to get better between you and Dean, and you were terrified of the outcome of what was in that envelope.

You knew in your heart that he wasn’t the father. It was just something that you felt inside.

But meeting with Lisa Braeden gave you doubts.

“Hey, sweetheart. What are you doing home so soon?” Dean asks as you walk in slowly. You drop your bag by the door, still clutching the envelope.

You sigh and wave the envelope. “Results are in.”

“Oh. Wow.” You watch as he leans against the couch and looks to you. “That was fast. I was thinking it’d take a little longer.”

“Her lawyer must’ve requested for a rush. They have their own copy to review. Once we see the results we can figure this out.”

“You doubt me.” He looks down, rubbing the back of his neck. “I can sense it in your voice.”

“I’m just scared Dean. I really want this to keep working out like it has.” You put the envelope out of reach and wrap your arms around you. “Like what would happen if he is actually your kid. Then she’d have to be involved and she already hates me seeing how I’ve taken you from her.”

You look up to his piercing green eyes and he wraps his arms around you. You put your head on his chest and sigh.

“It doesn’t change how I feel about you. I promise you. It doesn’t change. It will never change how I feel about you.”

“I know. I’m. I’m feeling vulnerable. I’m opening up and being honest.”

“Well, then let’s get this done and over with, and then go to bed. Just. Just be together.” He replies, tilting your chin up to him. You give a slow nod and he reaches to grab the envelope with a shaking hand.

He lets out a shaky breath as he pulls the results out, and he sighs, his breath hitching. You knew the tone of his voice, but his face showed it all.


End file.
